A Hero Defeated
by Mr.Hypocrite
Summary: Beaten and broken, Harry Potter lies before Lord Voldemort, and Voldemort makes Harry an offer he cannot refuse.


_"Undoubtedly," he said, finally, "this potion must act in a way that will prevent me taking the Horcrux. It might paralyze me, cause me to forget what I am here for, create so much pain I am distracted, or render me incapable in some other way. This being the case, Harry, it will be your job to make sure I keep drinking even if you have to tip the potion into my protesting mouth. You understand?"_

Harry's gaze dipped down to the glowing green potion, unknown in effect, between them. This was his great task? To feed a potentially deadly poison to the man he respected above all? It seemed so... weak. To let Voldemort's plan follow course, to not be able to outsmart the damned concoction between them, their goal scant inches from their grasp.

"Ok sir, I understand."

"Excellent!" Dumbledore replied cheerfully. Twirling his wand around his hand, a simple ladle appeared his hand. Experimentally prodding the potion with it, the ladle dipped into it like ordinary water. Ordinary, glowing water.

"Bottoms up my boy."

Scraping the ladle against the bottom of the bowl (the locket seemed to float away from the ladle as it came near) Dumbledore raised it to his lips. Tipping the potion into his mouth, he suddenly whipped his wand, parrying a brilliant blue light out of the air, a sound like cracking glass echoing through the cavern.

Harry dropped to the ground, raising a shield around himself. There, standing in the middle of the lake was Lord Voldemort.

"Tom," Dumbledore called out as though greeting a long time friend. "I thought I was very discrete coming to this place. You must be quite the talented individual to have methods of alerting yourself I did not notice."

Voldemort just stared back at him, a completely blank look on his face. His eye didn't seem to have any expression in them, simply looking at Dumbledore in complete neutrality. Harry was panicking, trying to get his feat underneath himself to more readily dodge incoming spell-fire. How was it he did not notice his approach. The voluminous cavern stretched for hundreds of feet in every direction, it was inconceivable that he could have snuck up from behind. He didn't even feel the prickling through his scar.

Voldemort abruptly uncrossed his arms, pointing his wand straight at Dumbledore.

"Do you think that you will escape here tonight Dumbledore?" Voldemort asked quietly, far calmer than Harry thought the situation called for. "You have trespassed into my most sacred of hideaways, and aim to destroy something of great value to me. You are about to fight me on my own territory, under my own wards and in the presence of my own soul fragment. Even Potter's mythical luck won't save him tonight."

Staring back at Voldemort, Dumbledore snapped his wand back out at his former student. Not moving his wand or eyes from the calm figure of the Dark Lord, he quietly spoke to Harry.

"Harry, when the opportunity arises, you must make your escape from here. This is a lost battle, we cannot hope to take the Locket while Tom is here. Do not look back, simply make your way to the entrance of the, swim out to sea, and apparate back to Hogwarts. Let Filius, Severus and Minerva what has happened."

"Professor, I can help. You can't stay here-"

"I assure you I can," Dumbldore interrupted sharply, his gaze turning to meet Harry's eyes. It struck Harry just how scared Dumbledore was, looked back at him with his blue eyes, full of worry. "I am far more capable of a fighter, and to be perfectly frank Harry, you would only be a detriment at this point in your life. Please Harry, do as I say."

It became abundantly clear to Harry the nature of the situation. Dumbledore was scared. The only man that Voldemort had ever feared now feared Voldemort. And judging by the painfully arrogant posture of Voldemort, the Dark Lord truly believed that he was in a league that Dumbledore was no longer part of.

Giving him a nod, Dumbledore turned back to Voldemort

"Prepare yourself Tom. I will not go down without a fight."

It was no use. No matter which way he turned, Harry couldn't find his way out of the tunnel leading to the cavern, thunderous explosions echoing from behind. He felt like he was floating, not able to concentrate on his surroundings. Every time he turned, his vision swam, unable to tell if he was looking in front of him or to his side; unable to tell if he was walking straight ahead or tripping to the ground. Coughing, his vision swam again. A stabbing pain shot through his ankle, and Harry fell to the ground, unable to put any support onto his damaged limb.

Kneeling on the ground, Harry let his head rest against the stone ground, panic and self-doubt rising to teh surface. Was this what he was reduced to? Six years in the finest school of magic and he couldn't even get out of a god damn cave. He was worthless, unable to even assist his headmaster, now running away like a coward. What would Ginny say, seeing him like he was.

_Worthless._

_Incompetent._

_Coward._

What kind of wizard was he? He didn't even know how to repair his ankle, or how to support himself as he made his way out of this fucking tunnel. A deafening gong rattled his head against the ground, clouding his self-deprecation in pain.

_Worthless._

_Incompetent._

_Coward._

Some sort of scream - or was that a screech - reached his ears. Dumbledore was a true wizard. Strong, brilliant, and always ready to help those that needed it, always knowing how to solve any problem.

Why couldn't he solve Voldemort? What hope did Harry have against the greatest wizard that ever lived. How could he think that Dumbledore, old and decrepit as he was, would ever have a chance against Lord Voldemort. Magic that he could never hope to preform was being slung around in the battle scene he has just fled.

_Worthless._

_Incompetent._

_Coward._

It was all hopeless. Voldemort was always ahead of them, always ready to hunt them down and destroy them. Nobody could hide, not his parents, not Sirius, not even Dumbledore.

_Worthless._

_Incompetent._

_Coward._

The thundering echos had stopped. There was somebody approaching from behind. Something...dragging on the floor. Picking his painfully heavy head off of the ground, Harry peaked over his shoulder.

Voldemort was there. And he had Dumbledore.

Dumbldore was in terrible shape. His beard had been entirely burned off,, and his face wasn't faring any better. Hideous burn marks scared his face, one eye surely damaged beyond repair. One arm was almost completley severerd below the elbow, hanging by less than Nearly-Headless Nick's head. But what scared Harry more than all was Voldemort.

He was perfectly fine. Not one scratch, not one burn make, no even a wrinkle in his robes.

"I felt like I should show you what became of your headmaster Harry. You do not need to suffer the delusion that you would've made a difference. It doesn't seem you were able to escape my little makeshift gauntlet"

Voldemort abruptly threw Dumbledore against the side of the tunnel, his body falling right next to Harry. He could smell the seared flesh this close.

"Yes, Dragonflame tends to break through even the staunchest barriers. I remember back in Yugoslavia, a Russian warlock managed to force me into a corner, and tried to do me away with it. An extraordinarily stupid wizard, I ended up propelling a brick through his head, but not before he left me with my own wounds. I'd dare say I lost some youthful arogance that day."

Voldemort paused, looking Harry up and down, apparently judging him less than satisfactory if the sneer on his face was anything to go by.

"You, on the other hand, Harry, probably have not had the privilege of letting arrogance getting the better of you. You let muggles trample over you in your youth, you let you classmates outpace you in academics, and only through the assistance of werewolves and mudbloods are you able to prove competent in any class. Though based on Serverus' accounts, you are hardly up to standard for you first year of Newts Defense. Tell me Harry, did Dumbledore see fit to teach you silent spell-casting?"

Licking his chapped lips, Harry closed his eyes. This was hitting too close to home. He already knew how incapable of a wizard he was, he did not need this mocking from his most hated enemy. He was going do die here, on his knees, next to the broken body of Albus Dumbledore.

Tutting, Voldemort covered the last few feet between himself and Harry, standing over him in a conquering fashion. Staring down at him, utter contempt in his eyes, his verbal lashing continued.

"When Severus told me 17 years ago of a prophecy he overheard in the Hog's Head Tavern made to Dumbledore, I felt fear for the first time in many years. A child, prophecised to be my downfall, born on the last day of July, to those lucky and resourceful enough to escape me three time. Your parents or the Longbottoms. I had to ask myself, what is the best course of action. I couldn't let this child reach any age where he is capable of casting a spell. I would be tempting fate. I had to strike the urchin down before he could even comprehend his task of defeating the greatest wizard to ever live. Would it be the child of famed Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom, or Chaser of Britain's National Quidditch team James Potter and the Experiemental Charms employee Lily Potter. I am going to confide in you, Harry, I truly thought the Longbottom spawn would be the end of me. But, not 3 weeks after I began my hunter, little Peter Pettigrew approached Lucius, telling him that he had valuable information that Lord Voldemort would be interested in. Peter was never a Deatheater before that night; I marked him right before he told me the location of your parents. I tore through the pathetic defensive wards, killed your parents, and found myself before you, relishing the fact that I was about to strike down my potential downfall before he could feed himself."

Voldemort lashed out, stomping his foot on Harry's exposed fingers, crunching them beneath the heel of his boot. A scream tore itself from Harry's mouth, the pain too great to contain himself.

"I thought you would be a great wizard Harry, and that I was cheating society by killing somebody of my scale before he could ever embrace magic. Clearly fate made a mistake."

Voldemort paused, and Harry heard it too. Somebody else was here, rapidly approaching from the entrance of the cavern.

"Ah Severus, punctual as always."

Harry managed to turn his head, thoughts of failure still racing through his mind. There stood Snape, clad in Deatheater garb, staring down as Harry behind his white mask.

Voldemort crouched down beside him, and gripped Harry's jaw in an iron grip, twisting it to bring them face to face.

"I can change that Potter. You may be a failure of a wizard, but I can make you into something grand. You have so much potential, being squandered away at a home of mudbloods and traitors. If you join me Harry, I will sculpt you and teach you the magic you wish Dumbledore had taught you in his private lessons."

How did he know

"What do you say, Harry?"

Harry merely stared back, stunned. Voldemort was offering him tutelage? To teach him magic and make him into a great wizard?

_Worthless._

_Incompetent._

_Coward._

_Traitor._

"Never."

Pursing his thin lips, Voldemort let out a dramatic sigh. "So be it Harry."

With that, Voldemort slammed Harry's head into the hard ground. Whipping out his wand, he shouted "_Crucio_!"

Bracing himself, Harry readied himself for the horrible pain of the unforgivable. But it was not his screams that echoed throughout the tunnel.

Dumbledore twisted on the ground. Hands flailing about, trying to graps the smooth surface of the tunnel around them. Harry felt his throat constricting in fear, tears forming in his eyes.

He had to stop this.

_Worthless._

_Incompetent._

_Coward._

NO.

Breaking free of the insidious grasp of the caverns curse, Harry drew his wand.

"_Incareous_."

Ropes spawned in midair, circling around the Dark Lord. Immediately canceling the curse, Voldemort slashed his wand, transforming the rapidly approaching ropes into multiple serpents. Another violent stab of his wand, and Harry felt pain ripping from his navel, his vision swimming once again. Harry crumpled onto his knees, unable to maintain balance. His wand ripped away from his grasp, sailing over to the outstretched arm of Voldemort.

Another slash of Voldemorts wand, and Harry felt as though a bludger rammed into teh side of his face full speed. With a piteous moan of pain, Harry turned to face Voldemort, pure hatred in his eyes.

"It would be wise to not raise your wand against me Harry." Voldemort said, slowly walking to Harry's prone form. "I understand the desire to die with pride, to say that you stood against Lord Voldemort, but that is no reason act in such a reckless manner. Every time you make a decision like that, you come that much closer to forcing my hand."

"You clearly care for Dumbledore, and he cares for you. Maybe if you had followed his orders for more haste, or were able to break free of my Curse of Sorrow, we would not be in this position. You could have reached Hogwarts, and I would be left here with my prize."

Dumbledore's body suddenly rose into the air, as though being hung by a crucifix. Slowly, it reached Voldemort, suspended between him and Harry.

"Join me Harry, and I will spare Dumbledore's life. Swear fealty and loyalty to me, and I will send him back to Hogwarts with Severus, and he will live to see another day. Ill even give you his phoenix."

Reaching into his robe, Voldemort revealed the ugly, bald form of Fawkes after his burning day, bound by some sort of black cord. The baby chick let out a sorrowful note, drving home just how utterly Voldemort had defeated them.

"An Unbreakable Vow." Harry said, licking his parched lips. "Make an Unbreakable Vow, that you won't hurt Dumbledore, that you'll send him and Fawkes back to Hog-"

A crack like a whip shot though the cave, and Harry's head slammed into the ground once again, darkness creeping along the outside of his vision. The throbbing in his head was clouding his mind.

"Do not presume to tell me what the terms are Harry. First lesson, when you are at the mercy of a more powerful opponent, you appease them, lest you provoke their ire. Now, if you accept, I will swear to one condition only, but one you want more than all. I will let Dumbledore and his Pheonix return to Hogwarts, and I will not act against him or any of my enemies for the rest of this month. This is my one offer Harry. And in turn, you will swear to follow my every order, and to never raise wand or fist against me."

Mind racing, Harry considered his options. If he didn't do as Voldemort said, he would die, and so would Dumbledore. There would be nobody to tell the secret of Voldemort's immortality, and it would only be a matter of time before he ruled Britain.

But if he did swear the oath, he would have to serve Voldemort, and never attempt to do him harm.

What choice did he have?

"Alright."

"Excellent!" Voldemort exclaimed, clapping his hands. "Severus, would you care to do the honors?"

Snape knelt down beside them, stealing a quick glace at Harry through his mask. Harry saw something that he had never seen from Snape. Pity.

"Take my hand Harry." Voldemort ordered, extending his right hand as though to greet a friend.

Surprisingly, his hand was not scaly or slimy, but that didn't stop waves of nausea from hitting Harry.

Taking a small breath, Snape began, "Do you, Harry Potter, swear loyalty to Lord Voldemort, never betray him in thought or action?"

Harry opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Taking a shuddering breath, he answered, "I swear."

A thing rope of flame flew out of of Snape's wand, encircling Harry's clasped wrist. Turning to Voldemort, Snape said "Do you, Lord Voldemort, promise to return Albus Dumbledore and the Pheonix known as Fawkes to Hogwarts, post haste, without harming them before hand and refraining from acting against your enemies for one week?"

"I swear."

A second rope of flame shot out of Snape's wand, encircling Voldemorts clasped hand.

Another breath by Snape, and he spoke the final Vow.

"Do you, Harry Potter, swear to never attack Lord Voldemort, to raise wand nor fist against him?"

This was it. This would seal their fate. If Harry swore to this, he would never be able to continue his quest to defeat Voldemort, he who was prophecised to be his downfall.

Maybe Neville could continue it after him. Maybe, somehow, Dumbledore could defeat him. Maybe.

But if he didn't, they would all die. Voldemort would kill him with no effort, and finish off the prone form of Dumbledore. God knows what would happen to Snape.

Steeling himself for his final Vow, Harry spoke quietly, "I swear."


End file.
